


Medium Blue, Right

by BeautyInChains



Series: The Hanky Code [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Caught, Coming In Pants, Copsucking, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Face-Fucking, Frottage, Handkerchief Code, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Police Uniforms, Public Blow Jobs, Roleplay, Rough Oral Sex, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyInChains/pseuds/BeautyInChains
Summary: Daryl blows out a hard breath, fingers tightening around the handkerchief in question. “Medium is…cop suckin’.”Rick goes very still against him, fingertips back and gripping at Daryl’s hips almost hard enough to bruise. “What?” he says, voice low and trembling. Daryl wants to curl in on himself. It’s entirely possible that Daryl may have, up until this point, neglected to share this particular fetish or inclination with Rick. He wasn’t hiding it, not really. And he sure as shit wasn’t subtle in the way his eyes lingered and his mouth watered whenever Rick suited up anymore.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Series: The Hanky Code [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703434
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	Medium Blue, Right

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks goes out to Heart-eyes-Harrington/Egertonsend once again for allowing me to spew filthy headcanons at her and returning them in kind! When it came down to sucking, I think it was always going to be Medium Blue. I mean, we all know how Rick looks in uniform. Like, goddamn. And can I just say, goddamn to I love writing these boys. I enjoyed writing Carl's little cameo and enjoyed getting to know my version of Aaron even more :P Poor Daryl just can't seem to catch a break with me, but I love it and I hope you do too!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts and feels and personal headcanons - I love it all!

Daryl’s still weighing his options when he hears Rick pad back into the bedroom. He smells clean when he presses up behind Daryl, like soap and skin. Daryl huffs out a laugh as Rick noses in behind his ear, little droplets of water dripping from Rick’s shower damp hair and soaking into the collar of Daryl’s shirt. “Whatcha doin’?” he drawls, hands coming up to Daryl’s hips as he hooks his chin over Daryl’s shoulder. He’s holding two handkerchiefs and if someone were to ask Rick at gun point he’d swear up and down they were the same damn shade of blue. “Tough choice this mornin’, I see.”

“You really can’t tell the difference?” Daryl asks, holding them up a bit so Rick can take a better look. Daryl can almost hear Rick squinting. He leans back against Rick, smiling at the way Rick’s grip tightens just a touch.

“I ain’t colorblind, Darlin’, but they look the damn same t’ me.”

“Nuh uh,” Daryl says. “This one,” he continues, holding up his left hand, “Is light blue. And this one,” he says, holding up his right, “Is medium blue.”

One of Rick’s hands releases Daryl’s hip to rub at the bridge of how nose like he’s getting some sort of headache. “Medium blue’s a bit non-specific, ain’t it?” Daryl tilts his head to the side, considering. Rick takes the opportunity to press a hot, open mouthed kiss to the skin there, sucking a bit. Daryl moans, arches back against Rick. He can feel Rick growing hard beneath the towel. “There a difference ‘tween the two?” he asks, words a bit slurred.

“Mmhmm,” Daryl hums, “Light is for suckin’.”

Rick growls against Daryl’s skin, fingers skating across Daryl’s belly and dipping just beneath the front waistband of his jeans, teasing. “Yeah? You got suckin’ on y’r mind, Darlin’?” It seems to be rhetorical because he doesn’t let Daryl answer. “What about th’ other one? Medium?” Daryl chews on the inside of his cheek, face flushing a bit. “Oh, Sugar. You embarrassed?”

“No,” Daryl murmurs, “’s not that.”

“You sure? You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

Daryl blows out a hard breath, fingers tightening around the handkerchief in question. “Medium is…cop suckin’.”

Rick goes very still against him, fingertips back and gripping at Daryl’s hips almost hard enough to bruise. “What?” he says, voice low and trembling. Daryl wants to curl in on himself. It’s entirely possible that Daryl may have, up until this point, neglected to share this particular fetish or inclination with Rick. He wasn’t hiding it, not really. And he sure as shit wasn’t subtle in the way his eyes lingered and his mouth watered whenever Rick suited up anymore. From the fitted shirt and trousers to the badge and the boots. Fuck. “Daryl?”

“Cop suckin’,” he says again.

Rick growls and nips at the side of his throat possessively. “Christ. You got somethin’ t’ tell me, Sweetheart?”

“’s not a big deal,” Daryl gasps as Rick starts grinding against his ass, pulling Daryl back into it by his hips.

“No? I think y’r wrong, Darlin’. ‘s pretty fuckin’ naughty, gettin’ on y’r knees for an Officer of the Law. Could ‘a gotten int’ real big trouble. But maybe you liked that, hmm?” Daryl moans then, dragging one of Rick’s hands from his hip to the front of his jeans where his own cock is filling out. Rick hums, palming him and squeezing him roughly through the fabric.

“Yeah. Yeah, I liked it.”

Rick tsks him, nipping at the shell of his ear. “Tell me,” Rick says, pumping his hips, “You ever thought about it? With me, b’fore?”

“God, yeah.” Rick’s answering groan rumbles against Daryl’s back and Daryl shivers. He shifts his grip, kicks Daryl’s legs apart and forces him over the end of the bed. “Fuck, _Rick_ ,” Daryl swears, barely catching himself on his forearms as Rick plasters himself against Daryl, rubbing off a little bit harder. A little bit faster. “First time we met,” Daryl says, “Hated how bad I wanted you. Just th’ sight ‘a you in uniform, those tight pants, that shiny fuckin’ badge. Wanted t’ sink right t’ my knees and get my mouth around you.” Rick’s hips stutter against Daryl’s ass and he grunts. Daryl’s cock is pressed tight against the mattress. There’s not enough friction for him to really get anywhere, but the pressure feels good regardless. It’s not really about him anyway, it’s about Rick taking what he needs, and Daryl is more than happy to give it to him. “Would ‘a swallowed you right up. Let y’ fuck my throat. Could ‘a made me choke on it. Gag. Would ‘a made it better. Turned me on even more.”

“ _Jesus_ , Daryl!”

“Would ‘a begged f’r you t’ bust on my tongue, swallowed y’r load. Wouldn’t ‘a spilled a single drop.”

Rick tenses up hard, heaves a wet, ragged breath against Daryl’s ear and Daryl can feel it then, the moment he comes. Rick’s cock kicks and spurts hot and thick into the damp towel. Daryl moans, tries to work his hips back into it, ride Rick through it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Rick chants, hips still rocking against Daryl’s ass, milking his orgasm until he’s trembling and oversensitive. He slumps against Daryl’s back and Daryl snorts into the mattress.

“Good thing y’ showered first.”

“Ugh, shuddup. This is y’r fault.”

“Nuh uh,” Daryl says, then reconsiders, “Well, maybe a bit.”

“Uh huh.”

“You didn’t get come on my jeans, did ya?” Rick hisses as he eases himself back up to standing, weighting into his feet. Daryl smiles when he feels Rick’s hands drag across his ass, massaging and squeezing.

“You’re good, Sugar,” he says, giving Daryl’s right cheek a nice little slap, “Towel got most of it.”

“Mmm, lucky towel.”

“Aww, hell, Daryl.”

Daryl looks over his shoulder, licks his lips as he rolls his hips down into the mattress. “Now ‘m all horny. C’mon, Rick. Y’ ain’t gonna leave me hangin’?”

And that’s how Carl finds them, the bedroom door swinging open without so much as a single courtesy knock. “Hey, Dad? Daryl? Aaron’s here for the—" Carl’s eyes go wide at the sight of Daryl red faced and bent over the end of the bed, his father standing right behind him in nothing more than a towel. “Jesus Christ,” he swears, clapping his hands over his eyes and whipping around to face the door. Rick almost drops his towel in surprise, clutches at it tight and puts a few steps between him and Daryl. “ _Gross_ , Dad.”

“Damnit, Carl. Ain’t never heard ‘a knockin’?” Daryl grouses, pushing up off the bed, cheeks flush with humiliation. He winces at the way his cock is lodged in his jeans but doesn’t move to adjust himself.

Carl ignores him. “Aaron is here,” he says again, “Downstairs.”

“R-right,” Rick stammers, “Uh, will you tell him Daryl’ll be down in a minute?” Carl nods quickly, hat bobbling as he drops his hands. Rick has to laugh at the way his son flees like a bat out of hell, footsteps thundering all the way down the stairs.

“Next time ya fuckin’ knock!” Daryl hollers after him, “Fuck’s sake, Rick. Ain’t y’ teach y’r kid any manners?” he asks, turning to face his lover. Rick looks embarrassed, amused, and a little apologetic as Daryl slips a hand down the front of his jeans to adjust his cock and whines when his fingers slip across the damp, sensitive slit.

“I know. _Shit_ , ’m sorry, Sugar. I forgot t’ lock the door when I came in. I’ll make it up t’ you. Promise.”

Daryl gets right up into Rick’s space, brushing their noses together. “You fuckin’ better,” he says, pressing a harsh kiss to Rick’s lips as he stuffs the medium blue handkerchief into his back right pocket. He doesn’t miss the way Rick’s eyes follow him out the bedroom door.

Carl refuses to make eye contact with Daryl as he leaves, not even as he mumbles out a routine “Stay safe”. Daryl supposes he should at least be thankful he didn’t run into his Michonne and that damn knowing smile of hers on his way out. Aaron, however, can’t seem to stop smirking all the way through the Alexandrian gates. “The fuck he tell you?” Daryl snarls on the other side, socking Aaron once in the arm. It’s nowhere near full force and serves only to underscore Daryl’s annoyance instead of causing actual bodily harm. Finally, Aaron can’t hold back his laughter anymore.

“Nothing, Daryl. He didn’t have to tell me anything,” Aaron says, clapping Daryl on the back. He pauses a beat as his gaze flits down before continuing, “Medium blue, huh?” he asks teasingly and Daryl chokes on his own spit. “It’s sure has been a while, but there are some things you never forget. I’ve noticed you have quite a collection. You going to tell him, or let him figure it out as you go? I was always a Grey Left man, myself.”

“I—you,” Daryl starts, stops. He’s been so caught up with Rick that he hasn’t stopped to consider that someone else might be privy to their little secret code. Which, now that he is thinking about, was pretty fucking stupid. Aaron laughs again.

“Oh, God. Please tell me you’re not going to pull some ‘holier than thou’ bullshit,” Aaron says, clearly mistaking Daryl’s spluttering as some sort of affront, “Like grey is so kinky. I’ve seen you wear red, Daryl. But hey, who am I to judge?”

“Wasn’t,” Daryl mutters, his cheeks flaming.

“Wasn’t what?”

“Gonna be _holier_. Just…surprised me is all.” Aaron smiles then.

“Well, don’t worry. I don’t think anybody else knows. Besides Eric, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Daryl repeats and it sounds foreign on his tongue.

“So, what did he think then?” Aaron asks, inclining his head toward the medium blue handkerchief protruding from Daryl’s back right pocket.

“Didn’t quite, get to it this mornin’, but uh,” Daryl pauses, unable to stop the smirk tugging at his lips, “Made me late didn’t he?”

Waylaid by a herd, Daryl and Aaron don’t make it back to Alexandria until well after the sun has set. Daryl’s tired and sore and covered in sweat, dirt, and walker. Daryl can see their bedroom window from up the block. The curtains are drawn and it looks dark. Daryl sighs, unsurprised but a bit disappointed. He stops in the middle of the empty street and fumbles in his vest pocket for his cigarettes, chucks the box to the pavement with a growl when he realizes it’s empty. “Son of a bitch!”

“It’s such a lovely night, Daryl Dixon. I’d hate t’ have t’ book for you disturbin’ the peace.”

Daryl looks up at the sound of Rick’s voice and his heart catches in his throat as Rick steps down off the porch. Christ. “ _Rick_ ,” Daryl croaks desperately. Rick is in uniform. It’s not the same one from back in the day, the brown one that Daryl had seen him in the first time they met that had him drooling and wanting to drop to his knees, but it’s something. Daryl eyes rove over him, top to bottom. From the fitted blue button down and tie, to the very official looking _Commonwealth of Virginia_ jacket and tight black jeans. Really, it’s not that different from anything else Rick might wear, but Daryl thinks it must be the thought that counts because he finds his mouth watering all the same.

“Oh no,” Daryl drawls, playing along, “Can’t go back t’ th’ joint, Officer. I’ll do anythin’.”

Rick chuckles, hands on his hips as he shakes his head. “Look, I know this probably ain’t what you had in mind—”

“Nah,” Daryl cuts him off as he closes the space between them, “’s even better. I love it. ‘specially them jeans.” Rick looks at him a bit dubious, a curious brow climbing. “Gun ain’t th’ only Python y’r carryin’, huh? Shit, you got a license for that, _Officer_?” he asks, dipping his fingers into Rick’s waistband to tug him in close. Rick laughs loud and bright as his hips bump Daryl’s and his hands come up to cup at Daryl’s cheeks, rubbing at the dirt and blood with his thumbs.

“You good, Darlin’?”

“’m fine, don’t need y’r fussin’. Need y’r dick.”

“I can see that. Such a needy little thing, ain’t you, Sugar?” Rick coos, pressing his lips to Daryl’s. Daryl licks into Rick’s mouth with a moan, tongues twisting and tangling. Daryl’s already hard and he can feel Rick swelling against his hip. Rick breaks the kiss with a wet sound, lips glistening. “Well then,” he says, hands dropping to his belt, undoing it right there on the front lawn, “I suppose I ought t’ give you what you need. Why don’t you get on y’r knees and show this cop what a good sucker you are?”

Daryl drops like a stone, knees hitting the damp grass with a dull thud. He nuzzles into the front of Rick’s jeans, mouthing at his cock through the fabric. “Easy, Darlin’,” he murmurs, slipping a hand inside. Daryl whines as Rick pulls out his cock, flush and fully hard now. Daryl can smell him and rears up, catching the head in his mouth to suckle. “Aww, _fuck_ , Daryl,” Rick swears, tangling his hands in Daryl’s filthy hair as Daryl sucks him all the way down. Daryl moves too quickly in his desperation and gags when Rick hits the back of his throat. His eyes water and his esophagus flutters and he fucking loves it. “So good, so good for me, Darlin’,” Rick says.

Daryl sucks him hard and fast, cheeks stark and hollowed, throat rippling, drool running sloppy wet down his chin. It sounds so loud out in the quiet open, so obscene it makes Daryl’s cock ache. Rick holds him tight by the hair, fucks in until Daryl’s nose is pressed against his belly and holds him there until Daryl’s vision starts to blur. He pulls out long enough for Daryl to cough and splutter wetly before doing it all over again. Daryl’s blinks up at him, dark slashes spiked, tears streaming down his face, lips puffy and smeared with a glossy mix of spit and precome. “ _Gorgeous_ ,” Rick growls and Daryl can feel the possession in his tone roll down his spine. By the fourth time Rick’s nails are digging into his scalp, little crescent moons cutting their way into the skin. “Gonna make me come, Sweetheart. You want it?”

“Mmhmm,” Daryl moans around Rick’s cock and clutches at the backs of his taut thighs.

Rick trembles, hips thrusting, almost stuttering in their urgency. “Course you do. _God_ , that’s it, ‘m gonna come in that sweet fuckin’ mouth ‘a yours, Daryl. Fill it up so you can swallow me down. _Fuck_ , ‘m coming,” Rick grunts out, fucking into Daryl’s mouth, cock swelling impossibly and then spurting hot and wet against his tongue. Daryl hums as it floods his mouth and he works to swallow every last drop. He sucks until Rick is hissing and pulling him off by the hair, “Shit, Darlin’, that’s good. No more. Drank me fuckin’ dry.”

Daryl licks his lips, hand dropping between his legs and squeezing. He’s so fucking hard he could cry and he’s sure he’s leaking through the front of his dirty jeans. “Ain’t forgot about you, Sugar,” Rick says, tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his stance so one leg is planted between Daryl’s thighs. “Go on,” he says, tipping his foot up to nudge at Daryl’s cock with the toe of his boot. Daryl swears under his breath, fingers curling around the back of Rick’s knee to hold him steady as he rocks up and humps against Rick’s calf. It’s naughty and demeaning, but it feels too fucking good for Daryl to give it a second thought. Rick strokes Daryl’s hair out of his face and tips his head up, “Look at me. There you go, Darlin’. That’s it. You take what you need,” he murmurs softly as Daryl ruts against him, chasing his own pleasure.

Rick blue eyes are dark, blown out to black as he gazes down at Daryl and Daryl flushes under the attention, huffs and moans as he grinds a little bit harder. “Rick,” he says. He tries to look away, but Rick doesn’t let him. Daryl’s jaw drops as Rick’s fingers twist back into his hair. He can feel it building fast, he’s so close and Rick knows it.

“That’s it,” he says again, “Come nice and pretty for me, Sweetheart, and maybe I won’t have to drag y’r ass back to th’ station.”

It happens all at once. Daryl snorts at the fucking absurdity and barks out a laugh against Rick’s thigh as he cock kicks and shoots hard, spurt after spurt of hot come soaking into his jeans and dripping down his balls, “No, _fuck_ , Rick! I can’t— _Jesus Christ_.”

Daryl can hear Rick snickering above as he pets Daryl’s hair, stroking it off his flushed, sweaty face. “Shit. ’m sorry, Darlin’. Couldn’t help myself,” he says, voice wavering with laughter as Daryl shifts and rocks his hips against Rick in an attempt to milk the pleasure. “Didn’t ruin it for you, did I?” Rick asks apologetically. Daryl groans, still trembling through the aftershocks even as he slumps back onto his haunches.

“Y’r real lucky I love ya, Grimes.”

“Don’t I know it,” Rick drawls warmly as he offers Daryl a hand and hauls him to his feet. Rick’s eyes are back to blue and sparkling as he meets Daryl’s gaze. “I’ll make it up t’ you.”

“Seems t’ be an awful lot 'a that today,” Daryl grumbles halfheartedly, lips turning up despite himself. He shifts, softening cock dragging through the cooling mess in his jeans. Now that the rush is over, Daryl actually feels pretty disgusting with his hair somehow simultaneous tousled and matted with bits of dried blood flaking off his clothes and skin and fluttering to the ground.

“Mmm, c’mon, Sweetheart,” Rick says, noticing his discomfort, “Let’s get you up in th’ shower and see if you ain’t forgive me once I’ve worked three fingers int’ that cute lil hole ‘a yours.”

Daryl smirks and nods, cheeks pinking as he gives Rick’s hand a squeeze. “Well, alright then. Lead th’ way. _Officer_.”


End file.
